Like Real People Do
by PatronusDawn
Summary: (One-shot) Loosely based from a song by Hozier. Post-Mockingjay. Hope you like it! Please review. :)


I lay on my bed just staring at my ceiling, just stare at its pale white pigment trying hard not to fall asleep because if I do,

_They'd come back, the nightmares._

So I try, my eyes burn from keeping it open, I inhale sharply as my parched throat quivers, my sharp bitten nails dig through the side of my thighs, I have to stay awake, I have to.

I bite my chapped lips hard as it bleeds. I reach my tongue out to its bitter taste. I sit up and turn my head to Peeta's house. He's still probably painting; we victors do our best not to fall asleep. He came back months ago, I first saw him planting a primrose bush on the front of my house. He looked at me as if to ask my permission if what he's doing is okay, I just gave him a curt nod then retreated back inside my ghost-filled house.

I lie back down and listen to the fast pace of my heartbeat, I stare again at the ceiling. There's nothing special with it but it's pale and lifeless and that's what I want to be right now.

I failed. The darkness seeped through the pale white pigment of my ceiling until it's all gone.

**… … …**

_I'm walking cautiously in the woods, Gale trailing behind me. The weather's not good today so we better hurry and get the trapped rabbits or squirrels in the snares that Gale set up. I stopped._

_"Hey, what's the matter Catnip?" Gale asks._

_I shake my head and murmur "Nothing, let's go."_

_"Here Catnip, I'll lead, I think I got something large today." Gale says, changing our path and heading left to the nearby creek._

_Gale starts to run and there are noises, so much loud bangs coming from our back._

_"Gale! Gale! Slow down or they'll hear us!" I urge Gale under my breath. I don't know who 'they' were but all Gale does was look back at me with this wide smirk on his face. I scowl but I still follow him._

_Gale finally stops and he's blocking the snare's view so I can't see it._

_"Gale, what's the matter with you?" I ask him and he guffaws._

_I look at the snare and it's not a rabbit or a squirrel or any particular animal we always catch, it's Prim._

_"Katniss! Katniss!" Prim shouts while her eyes are just staring at me with this pain, her voice breaking as she shouts._

_Gale's laughs start to increase, exceeding Prim's screams, it grows louder and louder until it feels like it's punching my head, I look at him and shout "What's the matter with you Gale? What's your problem? Why are you doing this?" I clutch his sleeves and his face contorts and he becomes Snow, I instantly smell the poisoned roses covering the smell of the blood dripping out of his mouth. I let go of him._

_"Why Katniss? Is something bothering you?" he comes closer to my face as I move away. He laughs again. I scream. I try to block out his words, crushing my ears with my hands, digging my nails to the side of head. I scream louder._

_I look at Snow again and his face is contorting, he turns into Coin. _

_"You're useless Katniss; you can't even save your sister!" Coin taunts._

_I look at Prim again and she's burning, there's fire around her and she starts to scream again, she's screaming my name again and again "Katniss! Katniss!" and I can't do anything, I can't move, the ground's starting to swallow me, it's holding me down so I start to scream, I scream._

**… … …**

"KATNISS!" I open my eyes and Peeta's eyes are staring back at mine. Peeta grasping both of my shoulders, my body covered in cold sweat.

"Peeta! Prim's in.. Prim's in danger! Peeta, we have to go to the woods! She's there Peeta!" I shout at him but all he does is stare back at me with this forlorn face, his eyebrows knitted together. His arid eyes holding back tears. His mouth pursed as if he's biting it inside, he exhales deeply then looks at me directly.

"Prim's safe now Katniss, she's safe.." Peeta whispers to me as he holds my face in between both of his hands.

I remember, I remember.. I lost Prim, I failed her.. I didn't save her.

Then I did something I've never done for months, I hug him. I cling onto Peeta and I just cry. I cry for my sister, I cry for Peeta, I cry for everyone I failed. He softly soothes me on the back and whisper sweet white lies.

"Everything's fine Katniss, I'm here, I'm always going to be here." he says, kissing the side of my head.

"You- You're not always going to be here Peeta.." I say, my voice breaking from screaming.

"I am, I will always be Katniss, if only you'd let me." he let goes of me then stands up.

He turns to go and so I called him, "Peeta." Silence came before he finally looks back.

"Don't go; don't go Peeta, just stay here with me, please." I say to him, moving to make space for him.

He sits by the edge of my bed as he discards his prosthetics and lies on my bed. We face the ceiling.

"Do you know I want to be like that?" I ask him with a whisper, he snickers.

"You want to be a ceiling?" he asks.

"Yes, I want to be pale and lifeless." a long pause came as I said that.

He stares at me and says "You're already like that."

He reaches for a lock of my hair and twirls it in his fingers; he whispers "Please let me be the one to save you."

I just close my eyes and turn to him, resuming to my old place on his chest, just listening to its rhythm like I did long ago, he wraps his scar-filled arm on me and I curl into him. We sleep, we sleep unsteadily and unsure but we were able to rest.

**… … …**

Every day we have this routine, Peeta, after waking up, immediately goes back to his house to bake; he sleeps in my house now after that night. I, well, when I wake up it's difficult for me to get up, I curl up in my bed and stare at the pills on my bedside table, I told them I didn't need it and it's useless too because I am never going to take those pills. I found no reason for me to ever get up from that bed until I smell the cheese buns that Peeta always bring for me, he's the reason I stand up, he's the reason I wake up; he's still taking care of me even after what I did to him, I was the one who gave him his demons, the demons that lurk in every space of our being but he never gave up; I don't get it, he surely doesn't love me anymore so why?

After showering, braiding my hair and dressing up to my usual hunting clothes, I go down. I see this plate full of cheese buns on the counter with a note that says:

Good morning Katniss!

~ Peeta.

The corners of my mouth turn up a little bit; he's the only one that makes me smile. I lean on the counter and eat two cheese buns. Buttercup suddenly comes in, he doesn't stay here or maybe I just don't notice him but sometimes I can hear him scratching Prim's door, he's still waiting for her, I get mad at him at times, I scream at him, shouting that Prim's not here anymore but even after that, I feel sorry and I'd let him sleep beside me; I throw him three pieces of cheese buns. Once I finished, I go to the woods without my bow. I don't really hunt now but sometimes I still take home some rabbits and/or squirrels from the snares but usually, when I go to the woods I just sit on the highest branch of a tree and think. I think of Prim mostly, I also think of Finnick and how Annie will be alone with their son because I failed them, I think of Cinna, I think of Portia, of Madge, of the people that died because of me and the family they left behind, I think of them and say sorry over and over again. I try my best not to jump over from that branch and just end it all, I think of Peeta when that happens which was always, I think of Peeta and how I could still make it up to him; he still has flashbacks, there were times when we're eating our dinner then he'll just shout at me to go away, I wanted to help him but he lashes at me so I have no choice but to walk away.

While sitting on the cypress tree, I look at the other trees surrounding me, the dull sunlight slipping through the leaves, the flutter of the birds' wings, I listen to the mockingjays' passing alternate sweet melodies, I sigh deeply and dig my nails on the branch of tree I am sitting on, the forest's like a codeine to me. I try to recall each detail of Prim's face, I do it every day because I'm afraid of forgetting her, I need to recall the exact way she speaks, I need to recall her voice, her sweet gentle voice that could wipe away all the bad things in the world; I need to recall her eyes, her blue innocent eyes; I need to remember the exact way she blinks, she laughs, or how she would do her best to make you better. Her strength. I have this fear that I'm maybe losing her completely, losing the memories I had with her and then I had an idea.

I quickly got down from the tree and ran, I ran to the Victors' village, I didn't even mind the weird stares of the people, I just ran straight to Peeta's house and without even knocking, I got in, and he's not in the kitchen so it automatically means he's painting.

I hastily run up the stairs and got to the room where he paints. He's there standing, yellow and blue paint smudged all over his hands, his dishevelled blonde hair has red paint on some parts of it; I don't even know how he could be that messy.

"Peeta..." I say his name with a gasp, still exhausted from running.

He immediately released the brush he was holding and took hold of me before my knees buckle down, my body's still weak.

"Katniss, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Why were you running?" Peeta asks question after question so I cut him and say "I'm okay, it's just, I thought of Prim."

"I know you miss her Katniss, I do too." Peeta says to me.

"I know, I'm just worried of losing her, the memory of her and I thought maybe we should write about her.. about everyone that we love, you could even draw or paint them and we'll compile it so we can make a–"

"–a book, a book for them.." Peeta continues my sentence.

"Will that be okay?" I ask him.

"Okay? Katniss, that's brilliant! Do you want to start now?" he says this with a smile I didn't know I was waiting for, his crooked smile, and the smile he held before, before the games.

"Yes." I reply with a simple nod.

Peeta asked me how would I want him to paint Prim, I told him about a memory, when Prim and I would play at this very special garden our own minds created, it was just in our minds that our house was full of flowers and life, that's what I do whenever Prim's gets scared or worried, I make her remember about our special place. Every now and then he asks some questions about the place, he asks me to describe the whole memory. Like how was the day from that memory, was it cold and pale or warm and sunny, were there many flowers around, what's the colour of the flowers, what do the trees that surround them look like, were there many cluttered leaves on the ground, were they coloured orange and brown? Was Prim facing me or looking at the flower she was holding, what kind of flower was she holding, where was I standing when that happened. Because of him, I remember each detail of that special place clearer.

"Thank you." I say somewhat inaudible but he still hears it and he looks at me with a sweet smile that I finally got to return, I smile with my teeth showing, it has been so long since I've done that; Peeta's smile widen.

I start writing which was difficult and painful because I pour out my words, words I wouldn't be able to say out loud and most of all, because I was writing about her. Every word, every letter, every time I write her name, the wound gets bigger, each word was agonising but I do, I continue it, even if Peeta says it's okay if I don't, I don't listen because if I won't be able to do it now, then when will I? I write about how she takes care of Lady and Buttercup, of how she took care of my mother and me. I ask Peeta about the days where Prim comes to his room to help him remember, when I first ask him, he stares at me in disbelief, I thought he was going to have a flashback but I guess he pushed it away because after that, he sat beside me on the floor and told me all of it, how she would hold his hands and tell different stories, how she would point out that I'm not a mutt and that she would always say to him that he has to remember how much he loves me, I look at him as he says that, I just stuck my bottom lip between my teeth and shake my head; I write as he speaks. I write about how Prim was like a flower, how seeing that little primrose could turn your empty world into something bright and happy. I also write about how Prim, like a flower, she could also fall apart and die.

We sleep at his house that day. It feels much more natural to be there in his house than in mine, my house can't even be called as 'home' anymore, it's only home if he's there; but if he's not, there's nothing in it but the echoes of the painful past and it makes me hollow like a cave. So when I woke up in his house, even though we slept on the wooden floor, everything seems right, I watch the dust swirl in the air and slowly settle back down as the sunlight came in through the small window. I shift my gaze on Peeta and I realised this is the first time I was the first to wake up, he still have his arms around me and I'm still on his chest. I look up at him in awe. His blonde eyelash still long, I look at the scar given by his mother above his right eyebrow, I look at his disarrayed blonde hair incandescent because of the sunlight and I look at his lips, he's smiling, he's having a sweet dream, I guess and then I realised that I, too, didn't have any nightmares. I reach my hand to the tousled hair on his head and stroke it, feeling the strands of it in between my fingers. He opens his eyes and I'm still overwhelmed by his cornflower blue eyes, he smiles.

"Good morning Katniss" he says with his voice still heavy with sleep.

"Good morning." I reply.

"Nightmares?" he asks, I shake my head.

"You?" I ask.

"None." he answers then tighten his arms around me.

**… … …**

We called Doctor Aurelius to ask for more materials for the book, he says he would gladly send some and that he was proud of me for having thought of the idea, that it would gratefully help Peeta and I, Haymitch even. The book added to our routine, I write about Rue, about Finnick, about Thresh, about everyone we played with in the games while Peeta paints them, there are days where Peeta have flashbacks but it's not like before, he was better now; we went to Haymitch's house one day to ask him who would he like to add, he drunkenly says to come back another time because he's still not ready, I gave him a curt nod before Peeta and I went out of Haymitch's house.

While we were in front of the fire place of my house, I look at Peeta and I hand him my pen and paper. He looks at me, confused.

I deeply sighed and asked, "Would you like to write about your family? You can start with your father if you want to."

He just eyes the pen and paper in front him, he grasps the pen holding it firmly. He writes "_My Father" _on top of the paper. His hands were shaking as he writes and then after half an hour I notice the drops of water on the paper, I look at his face and he was crying, he's screwing up his face in an effort to remember everything, my gut is in complete knots as I look at him. I hug him from behind, my forehead touching his neck.

"I'm sorry." I murmur on his shirt.

"No.. no, it's okay. I'm fine." he answers as his voice breaks.

"Let's sleep.. that's enough for the night." I whisper.

He nods and we go up to my room. The roles were exchanged that night, I was the one with my arms around him, I whisper anything that would cheer him up, I stroke his hair and kiss his forehead.. He was still sobbing as we fall asleep.

** … … … **

I woke up with no one beside me, I wait for the smell of cheese buns but nothing came, I wait for him. I look at the place next to me, where he should've been, I got his pillow and crush it to my chest, it still has his smell. I hear Buttercup scratching Prim's door. I sit up and look out the window to Peeta's house, no light. I stand up and walk unsteadily. I notice that it's already afternoon. I'm probably weak from not eating all day. I take a shower and braid my hair. I don't wear my hunting clothes; I just throw on a shirt, loose pants, and a pair of slippers. I walk to Buttercup, he's still scratching Prim's door.

"Come on Buttercup, you know she's not there." I mumble to him while struggling to pull him away from the door but he still won't let go.

"Buttercup! She's not there! When are you going to accept that? She's not here anymore!" I yell at him causing him to glare at me.

I hastily carry him downstairs and got some of the leftover cheese buns Peeta brought yesterday morning. I got three cheese buns then gave it to Buttercup. I got a glass of water. I sip a little bit, leaning on the counter. I grit my teeth and I thought of Peeta. Why isn't he here? Did I piss him so badly last night? Why didn't he even say goodbye? He could've said that he didn't want to see me anymore. At least I know why he's not here. But nothing? No farewells, if I'd end my life, I would've written a letter but him, he just goes.

I lock my jaw and stare at the note he left yesterday morning, hm, "Good morning, Katniss" I tug my bottom lip between my teeth hard until it bleeds. Yeah right, good morning. I set my glass down on the table and walked to the fire place. I saw the paper that Peeta wrote on last night for his father. I knit my eyebrows together and kneeled down to get it; I sat cross-legged in front of the fire place and took a deep breath.

"_My Father"_ I murmur the first words it wrote, I start to read the whole message, it reads:

_My Father._

_He was a nice man. He wasn't the best dad but he loved us. He wasn't always there for me and my brothers but when he was there, he makes up for it. He didn't get to defend me from my mother that much. He was scared too, I guess, or he just didn't want to admit to himself that our family was a lost cause. So he never did anything when my mom was yelling at him, hurling the rolling pin at him, hurting his sons. He never defended himself or us but there was one time that he did. It was when I tossed burnt bread at a very special girl. _

_My father pointed at one girl at my first day to my school, said that girl in little red plaid dress was named "Katniss" and that he once planned to marry that girl's mom but it didn't work out. He was saying that in a kiddingly way but you can see in his eyes that he genuinely loved the little girl's mom and the pain's still there. So, anyway, that was the special girl that I tossed the bread to. That day, my mom was unusually enraged. She's angry every day but that day it seemed like even the way me and my brothers blink infuriated her and by the way my dad moves, it's obvious he was anxious._

_It was midnight, I think, when I saw her. Just lying there on the cold wet ground in front of our bakery and in that moment it wasn't just puppy love I had, it was love. I love her. I had to take care of her so I tossed her the two burnt breads. My mother was mad! She was furious. She hit me especially hard that day and my father saw. It was the first time I heard my father shout at my mother. He took his apron off and threw it on the ground, his eyes were of a wolf, rabid and wild; he shouted at my mother "Enough! You have done enough!" _

_Of course, my mother fought back. They were screaming at each other and my brother and I were just standing there, watching, while our father finally stood his ground – after that our mother wouldn't hit us that much anymore but she still attacks us with words. I remember that day perfectly clear as if it just happened.. _

_My father.. _

_I didn't get to say that I love him, that I was thankful that he was my father. I didn't get to say thank you to him for introducing me to her.. I _

It was unfinished. I swallowed hard, setting the paper down. How could I be so senseless? How could I be so insensitive? Just because he wasn't here, I was angry. I didn't even consider that it was my fault why he isn't. He's probably not even well right now. He could be having an episode. I stand up and hurriedly got my coat, I ran outside directly to Peeta's house. I twisted the doorknob but it was locked. I knocked on the door but no one answered, I knock louder, each land of hand on his door creating a plangent thud.

"Peeta!" I shout in between knocks.

"Peeta! If you're not going to open your door, I will knock it down!" there was still no answer, so I did.

The moment I able to open the door, what greeted me was like a nightmare. I don't know if the colour red I'm seeing is blood or paint, but it looks like it's both. I grit my teeth as I step inside. Chairs, canvases were cluttered and broken. All of the canvases looked like it was punched through. Others were ripped. Red paint were splattered leading upstairs, I frantically ran upstairs yelling his name. At the end of the hall was his room – the door was open, I rushed to the room and what I saw made me catch my breath, made my hand cover my mouth. Peeta was hunched on the very corner of the wall, rocking back and forth. His mouth is moving but there's no sound coming out of it, his eyes were shut tightly as if he was in great pain. There was a patchwork of wounds on him.

"Peet- Peeta.." I said to him with a broken whisper, my voice shaking.

I heedfully walk closer to him. I knelt down in front to him and when my hands was half way to his, he winced.

"Go. Go away!" he hissed at me.

"Peeta.. Peeta, it's okay, everything's fine." I say to him, hoping it will help.

He opens his eyes and his pupils were dilated black, not the cornflower blue I know. He shuts it tight again and says forcefully "Go away, I'm a monster."

I was going to touch him again but he snarls as he opens his eyes again and his hands go to my neck, strangling me.

"Peeta.. Peet-" I swallow hard, struggling, my throat closing in. My hands are clutching his, my nails digging through his, I try to scream but I can't, I whimper. So I look at him directly in the eyes, I look at him, I try to find Peeta. My Peeta.

His pupils began to shrink, he begins to lessen his hold, he released me. He's Peeta again, his eyes widen, his mouth hanging open, he stares at his hands then looked at my neck, now covered in red paint. He blinks as tears come out from his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry." he murmurs, then quickly ran out.

I rush to him, following him as he goes inside his painting room. I got to his painting room where his door stood ajar. I peeked through the door and saw his trembling body curled up on the very corner of the room.

I walk to him cautiously, kneeling in front of him and cradling his head with both of my hands.

"Peeta.." I murmur softly.

He looks at me; you could see every painful memory flashing through his eyes as a tear escape from it, I erase it with my lips.

"I'm sorry." He mutters.

"I'm sorry." I answer back, closing my eyes as my lips met his.

**…**

**…**

**…**

_I could not ask you where you came from,_

_I could not ask and neither could you._

_Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips_

_We could just kiss like real people do._


End file.
